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		<title>The Waste Land</title>
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		<section epub:type="frontmatter" id="frontmatter">
			<section epub:type="titlepage" id="titlepage">
				<h1>The Waste Land</h1>
				<div class="aut">T.S. Eliot</div>
				<div epub:type="epigraph">					
					<p>
						<span xml:lang="la">"Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis
							meis<br />vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent</span>: <br />
						<span xml:lang="grc"
							>&#x03A3;&#x03AF;&#x03B2;&#x03C5;&#x03BB;&#x03BB;&#x03B1;
							&#x03C4;&#x03AF;
							&#x03F4;&#x03AD;&#x03BB;&#x03B5;&#x03B9;&#x03C2;<!--Sibylla ti theleis-->
						</span>; <span xml:lang="la">respondebat illa</span>: <span xml:lang="grc"
							>&#x03AC;&#x03C0;&#x03BF;&#x03F4;&#x03B1;&#x03B3;&#x03B5;&#x1FD6;&#x03B3;
							&#x03F4;&#x03AD;&#x03BB;&#x03E3;<!--apothanein thelo-->
						</span>."</p>
				</div>
				<p epub:type="dedication">For Ezra Pound: <span xml:lang="it">il miglior
						fabbro</span></p>
			</section>
		</section>
		<section epub:type="bodymatter" id="bodymatter">

			<section id="ch1">
				<h2>I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD</h2>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>April is the cruellest month, breeding</div>
					<div>Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing</div>
					<div>Memory and desire, stirring</div>
					<div>Dull roots with spring rain.</div>
					<div>Winter kept us warm, covering</div>
					<div>Earth in forgetful snow, feeding</div>
					<div>A little life with dried tubers.</div>
					<div>Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee</div>
					<div>With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,</div>
					<div>And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,<span class="lnum"
							>10</span>
					</div>
					<div>And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.</div>
					<div  xml:lang="de">Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt
						deutsch.</div>
					<div>And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,</div>
					<div>My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,</div>
					<div>And I was frightened. He said, Marie,</div>
					<div>Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.</div>
					<div>In the mountains, there you feel free.</div>
					<div>I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow</div>
					<div id="ln20">Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
						href="#note-1">*</a><span class="lnum">20</span>
					</div>
					<div>You cannot say, or guess, for you know only</div>
					<div>A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,</div>
					<div id="ln23">And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,<a
						epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-2">*</a></div>
					<div>And the dry stone no sound of water. Only</div>
					<div>There is shadow under this red rock,</div>
					<div>(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),</div>
					<div>And I will show you something different from either</div>
					<div>Your shadow at morning striding behind you</div>
					<div>Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;</div>
					<div>I will show you fear in a handful of dust.<span class="lnum"
							>30</span>
					</div>
					<blockquote xml:lang="de">
						<div>
							<div id="ln31">Frisch weht der Wind<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
									href="#note-3">*</a>
							</div>
							<div>Der Heimat zu</div>
							<div>Mein Irisch Kind,</div>
							<div>Wo weilest du?</div>
						</div>
					</blockquote>
					<div>"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;</div>
					<div>"They called me the hyacinth girl."</div>
					<div>&#x2015;Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth
						garden,</div>
					<div>Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not</div>
					<div>Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither</div>
					<div>Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,<span class="lnum"
							>40</span>
					</div>
					<div>Looking into the heart of light, the silence.</div>
					<div xml:lang="de" id="ln42">
						<em>Od' und leer das Meer</em>.<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-4">*</a>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,</div>
					<div>Had a bad cold, nevertheless</div>
					<div>Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,</div>
					<div id="ln46">With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,<a
						epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-5">*</a></div>
					<div>Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,</div>
					<div>(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)</div>
					<div>Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,</div>
					<div>The lady of situations.<span class="lnum">50</span>
					</div>
					<div>Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,</div>
					<div>And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,</div>
					<div>Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,</div>
					<div>Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find</div>
					<div>The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.</div>
					<div>I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.</div>
					<div>Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,</div>
					<div>Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:</div>
					<div>One must be so careful these days.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div id="ln60">Unreal City,<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-6">*</a><span
							class="lnum">60</span>
					</div>
					<div>Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,</div>
					<div>A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,</div>
					<div id="ln63">I had not thought death had undone so many.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-7">*</a>
					</div>
					<div id="ln64">Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
						href="#note-8">*</a></div>
					<div>And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.</div>
					<div>Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,</div>
					<div>To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours</div>
					<div id="ln68">With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-9">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying
						"Stetson!</div>
					<div>"You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!<span class="lnum"
							>70</span>
					</div>
					<div>"That corpse you planted last year in your garden,</div>
					<div>"Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?</div>
					<div>"Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div id="ln74">"Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-10">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>"Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!</div>
					<div id="ln76">"You! <span xml:lang="fr">hypocrite lecteur! - mon semblable, -
							mon frere</span> !"<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-11">*</a>
					</div>
				</div>
			</section>
			<section id="ch2">
				<h2>II. A GAME OF CHESS</h2>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div id="ln77">The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,<a
						epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-12">*</a></div>
					<div>Glowed on the marble, where the glass</div>
					<div>Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines</div>
					<div>From which a golden Cupidon peeped out<span class="lnum"
							>80</span>
					</div>
					<div>(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)</div>
					<div>Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra</div>
					<div>Reflecting light upon the table as</div>
					<div>The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,</div>
					<div>From satin cases poured in rich profusion;</div>
					<div>In vials of ivory and coloured glass</div>
					<div>Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,</div>
					<div>Unguent, powdered, or liquid - troubled, confused</div>
					<div>And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air</div>
					<div>That freshened from the window, these ascended<span
							class="lnum">90</span>
					</div>
					<div>In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,</div>
					<div id="ln92">Flung their smoke into the laquearia,<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
						href="#note-13">*</a></div>
					<div>Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.</div>
					<div>Huge sea-wood fed with copper</div>
					<div>Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,</div>
					<div>In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.</div>
					<div>Above the antique mantel was displayed</div>
					<div id="ln98">As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-14">*</a>
					</div>
					<div id="ln99">The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-15">*</a>
					</div>
					<div id="ln100">So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-16">*</a>
						<span class="lnum">100</span>
					</div>
					<div>Filled all the desert with inviolable voice</div>
					<div>And still she cried, and still the world pursues,</div>
					<div>"Jug Jug" to dirty ears.</div>
					<div>And other withered stumps of time</div>
					<div>Were told upon the walls; staring forms</div>
					<div>Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.</div>
					<div>Footsteps shuffled on the stair.</div>
					<div>Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair</div>
					<div>Spread out in fiery points</div>
					<div>Glowed into words, then would be savagely still.<span
							class="lnum">110</span>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div class="linegroup">
						<div>"My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.</div>
						<div>"Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.</div>
						<div>"What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?</div>
						<div>"I never know what you are thinking. Think."</div>
					</div>
					<div class="linegroup">
						<div id="ln115">I think we are in rats' alley<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
								href="#note-17">*</a>
						</div>
						<div>Where the dead men lost their bones.</div>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>"What is that noise?"</div>
					<div class="indent" id="ln118">The wind under the door.<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-18"
							>*</a>
					</div>
					<div>"What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?"</div>
					<div class="indent">Nothing again nothing.<span class="lnum">120</span>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>"Do</div>
					<div>"You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember</div>
					<div>"Nothing?"</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>I remember</div>
					<div>Those are pearls that were his eyes.</div>
					<div id="ln126">"Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?"<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-19">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>But</div>
					<div>O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag&#x2015;</div>
					<div>It's so elegant</div>
					<div>So intelligent<span class="lnum">130</span>
					</div>
					<div>"What shall I do now? What shall I do?"</div>
					<div>I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street</div>
					<div>"With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?</div>
					<div>"What shall we ever do?"</div>
					<div>The hot water at ten.</div>
					<div>And if it rains, a closed car at four.</div>
					<div>And we shall play a game of chess,</div>
					<div id="ln138">Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-20">*</a>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said -</div>
					<div>I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself,<span
							class="lnum">140</span>
					</div>
					<div>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME</div>
					<div>Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.</div>
					<div>He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave
						you</div>
					<div>To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.</div>
					<div>You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,</div>
					<div>He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.</div>
					<div>And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,</div>
					<div>He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,</div>
					<div>And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I
						said.</div>
					<div>Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said.<span
							class="lnum">150</span>
					</div>
					<div>Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight
						look.</div>
					<div>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME</div>
					<div>If you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.</div>
					<div>Others can pick and choose if you can't.</div>
					<div>But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of
						telling.</div>
					<div>You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.</div>
					<div>(And her only thirty-one.)</div>
					<div>I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,</div>
					<div>It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.</div>
					<div>(She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.)<span
							class="lnum">160</span>
					</div>
					<div>The chemist said it would be all right, but I've never been the
						same.</div>
					<div>You <em>are</em> a proper fool, I said.</div>
					<div>Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I
						said,</div>
					<div>What you get married for if you don't want children?</div>
					<div>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME</div>
					<div>Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot
						gammon,</div>
					<div>And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it
						hot&#x2015;</div>
					<div>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME</div>
					<div>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME</div>
					<div>Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight.<span
							class="lnum">170</span>
					</div>
					<div>Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.</div>
					<div>Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good
						night.</div>
				</div>
			</section>
			<section id="ch3">
				<h2>III. THE FIRE SERMON</h2>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>The river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf</div>
					<div>Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind</div>
					<div>Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are
						departed.</div>
					<div id="ln176">Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-21">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,</div>
					<div>Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends</div>
					<div>Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are
						departed.</div>
					<div>And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;<span
							class="lnum">180</span>
					</div>
					<div>Departed, have left no addresses.</div>
					<div>By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .</div>
					<div>Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,</div>
					<div>Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.</div>
					<div>But at my back in a cold blast I hear</div>
					<div>The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to
						ear.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>A rat crept softly through the vegetation</div>
					<div>Dragging its slimy belly on the bank</div>
					<div>While I was fishing in the dull canal</div>
					<div>On a winter evening round behind the gashouse<span class="lnum"
							>190</span>
					</div>
					<div>Musing upon the king my brother's wreck</div>
					<div id="ln192">And on the king my father's death before him.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-22">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>White bodies naked on the low damp ground</div>
					<div>And bones cast in a little low dry garret,</div>
					<div>Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year.</div>
					<div id="ln196">But at my back from time to time I hear<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-23">*</a>
					</div>
					<div id="ln197">The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-24">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.</div>
					<div id="ln199">O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-25">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>And on her daughter<span class="lnum">200</span>
					</div>
					<div>They wash their feet in soda water</div>
					<div id="ln202" xml:lang="fr">
						<em>Et O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole</em>!<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-26">*</a></div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Twit twit twit</div>
					<div>Jug jug jug jug jug jug</div>
					<div>So rudely forc'd.</div>
					<div>Tereu</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Unreal City</div>
					<div>Under the brown fog of a winter noon</div>
					<div>Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant</div>
					<div id="ln210">Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-27">*</a>
						<span class="lnum">210</span>
					</div>
					<div>C.i.f. London: documents at sight,</div>
					<div>Asked me in demotic French</div>
					<div>To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel</div>
					<div>Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>At the violet hour, when the eyes and back</div>
					<div>Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits</div>
					<div>Like a taxi throbbing waiting,</div>
					<div id="ln218">I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,<a
						epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-28">*</a></div>
					<div>Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see</div>
					<div>At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives<span
							class="lnum">220</span>
					</div>
					<div id="ln221">Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,<a
						epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-29">*</a></div>
					<div>The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights</div>
					<div>Her stove, and lays out food in tins.</div>
					<div>Out of the window perilously spread</div>
					<div>Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays,</div>
					<div>On the divan are piled (at night her bed)</div>
					<div>Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.</div>
					<div>I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs</div>
					<div>Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest -</div>
					<div>I too awaited the expected guest.<span class="lnum">230</span>
					</div>
					<div>He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,</div>
					<div>A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,</div>
					<div>One of the low on whom assurance sits</div>
					<div>As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.</div>
					<div>The time is now propitious, as he guesses,</div>
					<div>The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,</div>
					<div>Endeavours to engage her in caresses</div>
					<div>Which still are unreproved, if undesired.</div>
					<div>Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;</div>
					<div>Exploring hands encounter no defence;<span class="lnum"
							>240</span>
					</div>
					<div>His vanity requires no response,</div>
					<div>And makes a welcome of indifference.</div>
					<div>(And I Tiresias have foresuffered all</div>
					<div>Enacted on this same divan or bed;</div>
					<div>I who have sat by Thebes below the wall</div>
					<div>And walked among the lowest of the dead.)</div>
					<div>Bestows one final patronising kiss,</div>
					<div>And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>She turns and looks a moment in the glass,</div>
					<div>Hardly aware of her departed lover;<span class="lnum"
							>250</span>
					</div>
					<div>Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:</div>
					<div>"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."</div>
					<div id="ln253">When lovely woman stoops to folly and<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-30">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Paces about her room again, alone,</div>
					<div>She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,</div>
					<div>And puts a record on the gramophone.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div id="ln257">"This music crept by me upon the waters"<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-31">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.</div>
					<div>O City city, I can sometimes hear</div>
					<div>Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street,<span class="lnum"
							>260</span>
					</div>
					<div>The pleasant whining of a mandoline</div>
					<div>And a clatter and a chatter from within</div>
					<div>Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls</div>
					<div id="ln264">Of Magnus Martyr hold<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-32"
							>*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup indent">
					<div id="ln266">The river sweats<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-33">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Oil and tar</div>
					<div>The barges drift</div>
					<div>With the turning tide</div>
					<div>Red sails<span class="lnum">270</span>
					</div>
					<div>Wide</div>
					<div>To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.</div>
					<div>The barges wash</div>
					<div>Drifting logs</div>
					<div>Down Greenwich reach</div>
					<div>Past the Isle of Dogs.</div>
					<div class="indent">Weialala leia</div>
					<div class="indent">Wallala leialala</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup indent">
					<div id="ln279">Elizabeth and Leicester<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-34"
							>*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Beating oars<span class="lnum">280</span>
					</div>
					<div>The stern was formed</div>
					<div>A gilded shell</div>
					<div>Red and gold</div>
					<div>The brisk swell</div>
					<div>Rippled both shores</div>
					<div>Southwest wind</div>
					<div>Carried down stream</div>
					<div>The peal of bells</div>
					<div>White towers</div>
					<div class="indent">Weialala leia<span class="lnum">290</span>
					</div>
					<div class="indent">Wallala leialala</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>"Trams and dusty trees.</div>
					<div id="ln293">Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-35">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees</div>
					<div>Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe."</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>"My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart</div>
					<div>Under my feet. After the event</div>
					<div>He wept. He promised 'a new start'.</div>
					<div>I made no comment. What should I resent?"</div>
					<div>"On Margate Sands.<span class="lnum">300</span>
					</div>
					<div>I can connect</div>
					<div>Nothing with nothing.</div>
					<div>The broken fingernails of dirty hands.</div>
					<div>My people humble people who expect</div>
					<div>Nothing."</div>
					<div class="indent">la la</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div id="ln307">To Carthage then I came<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-36"
							>*</a>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div  id="ln308">Burning burning burning burning<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-37">*</a>
					</div>
					<div  id="ln309">O Lord Thou pluckest me out<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-38">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>O Lord Thou pluckest<span class="lnum">310</span>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>burning</div>
				</div>
			</section>
			<section id="ch4">
				<h2>IV. DEATH BY WATER</h2>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,</div>
					<div>Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell</div>
					<div>And the profit and loss.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div class="indent2">A current under sea</div>
					<div>Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell</div>
					<div>He passed the stages of his age and youth</div>
					<div>Entering the whirlpool.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div class="indent2">Gentile or Jew</div>
					<div>O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,<span
							class="lnum">320</span>
					</div>
					<div>Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.</div>
				</div>
			</section>
			<section id="ch5">
				<h2>V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID</h2>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>After the torchlight red on sweaty faces</div>
					<div>After the frosty silence in the gardens</div>
					<div>After the agony in stony places</div>
					<div>The shouting and the crying</div>
					<div>Prison and palace and reverberation</div>
					<div>Of thunder of spring over distant mountains</div>
					<div>He who was living is now dead</div>
					<div>We who were living are now dying</div>
					<div>With a little patience<span class="lnum">330</span>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Here is no water but only rock</div>
					<div>Rock and no water and the sandy road</div>
					<div>The road winding above among the mountains</div>
					<div>Which are mountains of rock without water</div>
					<div>If there were water we should stop and drink</div>
					<div>Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think</div>
					<div>Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand</div>
					<div>If there were only water amongst the rock</div>
					<div>Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit</div>
					<div>Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit<span class="lnum"
							>340</span>
					</div>
					<div>There is not even silence in the mountains</div>
					<div>But dry sterile thunder without rain</div>
					<div>There is not even solitude in the mountains</div>
					<div>But red sullen faces sneer and snarl</div>
					<div>From doors of mudcracked houses</div>
					<div class="linegroup">
						<div class="indent2">If there were water</div>
						<div>And no rock</div>
						<div>If there were rock</div>
						<div>And also water</div>
						<div>And water<span class="lnum">350</span>
						</div>
						<div>A spring</div>
						<div>A pool among the rock</div>
						<div>If there were the sound of water only</div>
						<div>Not the cicada</div>
						<div>And dry grass singing</div>
						<div>But sound of water over a rock</div>
						<div id="ln357">Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees<a
								epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-39">*</a>
						</div>
						<div>Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop</div>
						<div>But there is no water</div>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div  id="ln360">Who is the third who walks always beside you?<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-40">*</a>
						<span class="lnum">360</span>
					</div>
					<div>When I count, there are only you and I together</div>
					<div>But when I look ahead up the white road</div>
					<div>There is always another one walking beside you</div>
					<div>Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded</div>
					<div>I do not know whether a man or a woman</div>
					<div id="ln367">&#x2015;But who is that on the other side of you?<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-41">*</a>
					</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>What is that sound high in the air</div>
					<div>Murmur of maternal lamentation</div>
					<div>Who are those hooded hordes swarming</div>
					<div>Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth<span
							class="lnum">370</span>
					</div>
					<div>Ringed by the flat horizon only</div>
					<div>What is the city over the mountains</div>
					<div>Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air</div>
					<div>Falling towers</div>
					<div>Jerusalem Athens Alexandria</div>
					<div>Vienna London</div>
					<div>Unreal</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>A woman drew her long black hair out tight</div>
					<div>And fiddled whisper music on those strings</div>
					<div>And bats with baby faces in the violet light<span class="lnum"
							>380</span>
					</div>
					<div>Whistled, and beat their wings</div>
					<div>And crawled head downward down a blackened wall</div>
					<div>And upside down in air were towers</div>
					<div>Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours</div>
					<div>And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted
						wells.</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>In this decayed hole among the mountains</div>
					<div>In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing</div>
					<div>Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel</div>
					<div>There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.</div>
					<div>It has no windows, and the door swings,<span class="lnum"
							>390</span>
					</div>
					<div>Dry bones can harm no one.</div>
					<div>Only a cock stood on the rooftree</div>
					<div>Co co rico co co rico</div>
					<div>In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust</div>
					<div>Bringing rain</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div>Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves</div>
					<div>Waited for rain, while the black clouds</div>
					<div>Gathered far distant, over Himavant.</div>
					<div>The jungle crouched, humped in silence.</div>
					<div>Then spoke the thunder<span class="lnum">400</span>
					</div>
					<div>DA</div>
					<div id="ln402">
						<span xml:lang="sa">Datta</span>: what have we given?<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-42">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>My friend, blood shaking my heart</div>
					<div>The awful daring of a moment's surrender</div>
					<div>Which an age of prudence can never retract</div>
					<div>By this, and this only, we have existed</div>
					<div>Which is not to be found in our obituaries </div>
					<div id="ln408">Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-43">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor</div>
					<div>In our empty rooms<span class="lnum">410</span>
					</div>
					<div>DA</div>
					<div  id="ln412">
						<span xml:lang="sa">Dayadhvam</span>: I have heard the key<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-44">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Turn in the door once and turn once only</div>
					<div>We think of the key, each in his prison</div>
					<div>Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison</div>
					<div>Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours</div>
					<div>Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus</div>
					<div>DA</div>
					<div>
						<span xml:lang="sa">Damyata</span>: The boat responded</div>
					<div>Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar<span class="lnum"
							>420</span>
					</div>
					<div>The sea was calm, your heart would have responded</div>
					<div>Gaily, when invited, beating obedient</div>
					<div>To controlling hands</div>
				</div>
				<div class="linegroup">
					<div class="indent">I sat upon the shore</div>
					<div id="ln425">Fishing, with the arid plain behind me<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
							href="#note-45">*</a>
					</div>
					<div>Shall I at least set my lands in order?</div>
					<div>London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down</div>
					<div  id="ln428" xml:lang="it">
						<em>Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina</em>
						<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-46">*</a>
					</div>
					<div id="ln429">
						<span xml:lang="it">
							<em>Quando fiam ceu chelidon</em>
						</span> - O swallow swallow<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-47">*</a>
					</div>
					<div  id="ln430" xml:lang="fr">
						<em>Le Prince d'Aquitaine a la tour abolie</em>
						<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-48">*</a>
						<span class="lnum">430</span>
					</div>
					<div>These fragments I have shored against my ruins</div>
					<div id="ln432">Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo's mad againe.<a
							epub:type="noteref" class="noteref" href="#note-49">*</a>
					</div>
					<div  xml:lang="sa">Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.</div>
					<div id="ln434" class="linegroup indent">
						<span  xml:lang="sa">Shantih shantih shantih<a epub:type="noteref" class="noteref"
								href="#note-50">*</a>
						</span>
					</div>
				</div>
			</section>
		</section>
		<section epub:type="backmatter" id="backmatter">
			<section epub:type="endnotes" id="endnotes">
				<h2>NOTES ON "THE WASTE LAND"</h2>
				<p>Not only the title, but the plan and a good deal of the incidental symbolism of
					the poem were suggested by Miss Jessie L. Weston's book on the Grail legend:
					From Ritual to Romance</p>
				<p>Indeed, so deeply am I indebted, Miss Weston's book will elucidate the
					difficulties of the poem much better than my notes can do; and I recommend it
					(apart from the great interest of the book itself) to any who think such
					elucidation of the poem worth the trouble. To another work of anthropology I am
					indebted in general, one which has influenced our generation profoundly; I mean
					The Golden Bough; I have used especially the two volumes Adonis, Attis, Osiris.
					Anyone who is acquainted with these works will immediately recognise in the poem
					certain references to vegetation ceremonies.</p>
				<section>
					<h3>I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD</h3>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-1">
						<p><a href="#ln20">Line 20.</a> Cf. Ezekiel 2:1.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-2">
						<p><a href="#ln23">23.</a> Cf. Ecclesiastes 12:5.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-3">
						<p><a href="#ln31">31.</a> V. Tristan und Isolde, i, verses 5-8.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-4">
						<p><a href="#ln42">42.</a> Id. iii, verse 24.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-5">
						<p><a href="#ln46">46.</a> I am not familiar with the exact constitution of the Tarot pack of
							cards, from which I have obviously departed to suit my own convenience.
							The Hanged Man, a member of the traditional pack, fits my purpose in two
							ways: because he is associated in my mind with the Hanged God of Frazer,
							and because I associate him with the hooded figure in the passage of the
							disciples to Emmaus in Part V. The Phoenician Sailor and the Merchant
							appear later; also the "crowds of people," and Death by Water is
							executed in Part IV. The Man with Three Staves (an authentic member of
							the Tarot pack) I associate, quite arbitrarily, with the Fisher King
							himself.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-6">
						<p><a href="#ln60">60.</a> Cf. Baudelaire:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="fr">
							<p>"Fourmillante cite;, cite; pleine de reves,<br />Ou le spectre en
								plein jour raccroche le passant."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-7">
						<p><a href="#ln63">63.</a> Cf. Inferno, iii. 55-7.</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="it">
							<p>"si lunga tratta<br />di gente, ch'io non avrei mai creduto<br />che
								morte tanta n'avesse disfatta."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-8">
						<p><a href="#ln64">64.</a> Cf. Inferno, iv. 25-7:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="it">
							<p>"Quivi, secondo che per ascoltahre,<br />"non avea pianto, ma' che di
								sospiri,<br />"che l'aura eterna facevan tremare."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-9">
						<p><a href="#ln68">68.</a> A phenomenon which I have often noticed.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-10">
						<p><a href="#ln74">74.</a> Cf. the Dirge in Webster's White Devil .</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-11">
						<p><a href="#ln76">76.</a> V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fleurs du Mal.</p>
					</div>
				</section>
				<section>
					<h3>II. A GAME OF CHESS</h3>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-12">
						<p><a href="#ln77">77.</a> Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, II. ii., l. 190.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-13">
						<p><a href="#ln92">92.</a> Laquearia. V. Aeneid, I. 726:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="la">
							<p>dependent lychni laquearibus aureis incensi, et noctem
								flammis<br />funalia vincunt.</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-14">
						<p><a href="#ln98">98.</a> Sylvan scene. V. Milton, Paradise Lost, iv. 140.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-15">
						<p><a href="#ln99">99.</a> V. Ovid, Metamorphoses, vi, Philomela.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-16">
						<p><a href="#ln100">100.</a> Cf. Part III, l. 204.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-17">
						<p><a href="#ln115">115.</a> Cf. Part III, l. 195.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-18">
						<p><a href="#ln118">118.</a> Cf. Webster:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<p>"Is the wind in that door still?"</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-19">
						<p><a href="#ln126">126.</a> Cf. Part I, l. 37, 48.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-20">
						<p><a href="#ln138">138.</a> Cf. the game of chess in Middleton's Women beware Women.</p>
					</div>
				</section>
				<section>
					<h3>III. THE FIRE SERMON</h3>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-21">
						<p><a href="#ln176">176.</a> V. Spenser, Prothalamion.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-22">
						<p><a href="#ln192">192.</a> Cf. The Tempest, I. ii.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-23">
						<p><a href="#ln196">196.</a> Cf. Marvell, To His Coy Mistress.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-24">
						<p><a href="#ln197">197.</a> Cf. Day, Parliament of Bees:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<div>
								<div>"When of the sudden, listening, you shall
									hear,</div>
								<div>"A noise of horns and hunting, which shall
									bring</div>
								<div>"Actaeon to Diana in the spring,</div>
								<div>"Where all shall see her naked skin . . ."</div>
							</div>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-25">
						<p><a href="#ln199">199.</a> I do not know the origin of the ballad from which these lines are
							taken: it was reported to me from Sydney, Australia.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-26">
						<p><a href="#ln202">202.</a> V. Verlaine, Parsifal.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-27">
						<p><a href="#ln210">210.</a> The currants were quoted at a price "cost insurance and freight to
							London"; and the Bill of Lading etc. were to be handed to the buyer upon
							payment of the sight draft.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-28">
						<p><a href="#ln218">218.</a> Tiresias, although a mere spectator and not indeed a "character," is
							yet the most important personage in the poem, uniting all the rest. Just
							as the one-eyed merchant, seller of currants, melts into the Phoenician
							Sailor, and the latter is not wholly distinct from Ferdinand Prince of
							Naples, so all the women are one woman, and the two sexes meet in
							Tiresias. What Tiresias sees, in fact, is the substance of the poem. The
							whole passage from Ovid is of great anthropological interest:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="la">
							<p>'. . . Cum Iunone iocos et maior vestra profecto est<br /> Quam, quae
								contingit maribus,' dixisse, 'voluptas.'<br /> Illa negat; placuit
								quae sit sententia docti<br /> Quaerere Tiresiae: venus huic erat
								utraque nota.<br /> Nam duo magnorum viridi coeuntia silva<br />
								Corpora serpentum baculi violaverat ictu<br /> Deque viro factus,
								mirabile, femina septem<br /> Egerat autumnos; octavo rursus
								eosdem<br /> Vidit et 'est vestrae si tanta potentia plagae,'<br />
								Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contraria mutet,<br /> Nunc quoque vos
								feriam!' percussis anguibus isdem<br /> Forma prior rediit
								genetivaque venit imago.<br /> Arbiter hic igitur sumptus de lite
								iocosa<br /> Dicta Iovis firmat; gravius Saturnia iusto<br /> Nec
								pro materia fertur doluisse suique<br /> Iudicis aeterna damnavit
								lumina nocte,<br /> At pater omnipotens (neque enim licet inrita
								cuiquam<br /> Facta dei fecisse deo) pro lumine adempto<br /> Scire
								futura dedit poenamque levavit honore.<br />
							</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-29">
						<p><a href="#ln221">221.</a> This may not appear as exact as Sappho's lines, but I had in mind
							the "longshore" or "dory" fisherman, who returns at nightfall.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-30">
						<p><a href="#ln253">253.</a> V. Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar of Wakefield.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-31">
						<p><a href="#ln257">257.</a> V. The Tempest, as above.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-32">
						<p><a href="#ln264">264.</a> The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is to my mind one of the finest
							among Wren's interiors. See The Proposed Demolition of Nineteen City
							Churches (P. S. King &amp; Son, Ltd.).</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-33">
						<p><a href="#ln266">266.</a> The Song of the (three) Thames-daughters begins here. From line 292
							to 306 inclusive they speak in turn. V. Gutterdsammerung, III. i: the
							Rhine-daughters.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-34">
						<p><a href="#ln279">279.</a> V. Froude, Elizabeth, Vol. I, ch. iv, letter of De Quadra to Philip
							of Spain:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<div>
								<div>"In the afternoon we were in a barge, watching the
									games on the river.</div>
								<div>(The queen) was alone with Lord Robert and myself
									on the poop,</div>
								<div>when they began to talk nonsense, and went so far
									that Lord Robert</div>
								<div>at last said, as I was on the spot there was no
									reason why they</div>
								<div>should not be married if the queen pleased."</div>
							</div>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-35">
						<p><a href="#ln293">293.</a> Cf. Purgatorio, v. 133:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<p>"Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia;<br />Siena mi fe', disfecemi
								Maremma."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-36">
						<p><a href="#ln307">307.</a> V. St. Augustine's Confessions: "to Carthage then I came, where a
							cauldron of unholy loves sang all about mine ears."</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-37">
						<p><a href="#ln308">308.</a> The complete text of the Buddha's Fire Sermon (which corresponds in
							importance to the Sermon on the Mount) from which these words are taken,
							will be found translated in the late Henry Clarke Warren's Buddhism in
							Translation (Harvard Oriental Series). Mr. Warren was one of the great
							pioneers of Buddhist studies in the Occident.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-38">
						<p><a href="#ln309">309.</a> From St. Augustine's Confessions again. The collocation of these two
							representatives of eastern and western asceticism, as the culmination of
							this part of the poem, is not an accident.</p>
					</div>
				</section>
				<section>
					<h3>V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID</h3>
					<p>In the first part of Part V three themes are employed: the journey to Emmaus,
						the approach to the Chapel Perilous (see Miss Weston's book) and the present
						decay of eastern Europe.</p>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-39">
						<p><a href="#ln357">357.</a> This is Turdus aonalaschkae pallasii, the hermit-thrush which I have
							heard in Quebec County. Chapman says (Handbook of Birds of Eastern North
							America) "it is most at home in secluded woodland and thickety retreats.
							. . . Its notes are not remarkable for variety or volume, but in purity
							and sweetness of tone and exquisite modulation they are unequalled." Its
							"water-dripping song" is justly celebrated.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-40">
						<p><a href="#ln360">360.</a> The following lines were stimulated by the account of one of the
							Antarctic expeditions (I forget which, but I think one of Shackleton's):
							it was related that the party of explorers, at the extremity of their
							strength, had the constant delusion that there was one more member than
							could actually be counted.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-41">
						<p><a href="#ln367">367-77.</a> Cf. Hermann Hesse, Blick ins Chaos:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="de">
							<p>"Schon ist halb Europa, schon ist zumindest der halbe Osten Europas
								auf dem<br /> Wege zum Chaos, fhrt betrunken im heiligem Wahn am
								Abgrund entlang<br /> und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch
								wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang.<br /> Ueber diese Lieder lacht der
								Bsrger beleidigt, der Heilige<br /> und Seher hrt sie mit
								Trvnen."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-42">
						<p><a href="#ln402">402.</a> <q xml:lang="sa">"Datta, dayadhvam, damyata"</q> (Give, sympathize,
							control). The fable of the meaning of the Thunder is found in the
							Brihadaranyaka-Upanishad, 5, 1. A translation is found in Deussen's
							Sechzig Upanishads des Veda, p. 489.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-43">
						<p><a href="#ln408">408.</a> Cf. Webster, The White Devil, v. vi:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<p>". . . they'll remarry<br /> Ere the worm pierce your winding-sheet,
								ere the spider<br /> Make a thin curtain for your epitaphs."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-44">
						<p><a href="#ln412">412.</a> Cf. Inferno, xxxiii. 46:</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="it">
							<p>"ed io sentii chiavar l'uscio di sotto<br /> all'orribile torre."</p>
						</blockquote>
						<p>Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality, p. 346:</p>
						<blockquote>
							<p>"My external sensations are no less private to myself than are my
								thoughts or my feelings. In either case my experience falls within
								my own circle, a circle closed on the outside; and, with all its
								elements alike, every sphere is opaque to the others which surround
								it. . . . In brief, regarded as an existence which appears in a
								soul, the whole world for each is peculiar and private to that
								soul."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-45">
						<p><a href="#ln425">425.</a> V. Weston, From Ritual to Romance; chapter on the Fisher King.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-46">
						<p><a href="#ln428">428.</a> V. Purgatorio, xxvi. 148.</p>
						<blockquote xml:lang="it">
							<p>"'Ara vos prec per aquella valor<br /> 'que vos guida al som de
								l'escalina,<br /> 'sovegna vos a temps de ma dolor.'<br /> Poi
								s'ascose nel foco che gli affina."</p>
						</blockquote>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-47">
						<p><a href="#ln429">429.</a> V. Pervigilium Veneris. Cf. Philomela in Parts II and III.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-48">
						<p><a href="#ln430">430.</a> V. Gerard de Nerval, Sonnet El Desdichado.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-49">
						<p><a href="#ln432">432.</a> V. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy.</p>
					</div>
					<div epub:type="endnote" id="note-50">
						<p><a href="#ln434">434.</a> Shantih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to an Upanishad. 'The
							Peace which passeth understanding' is a feeble translation of the
							content of this word.</p>
					</div>
				</section>
			</section>
		</section>
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